


a thorn between two roses

by unnohrian (cuddlebros)



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Blindfolds, Body Worship, Dancer!Reader, Established Relationship, F/F, Lesbian Sex, Married Couple, Reader-Insert, Threesome - F/F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-05 15:08:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14046930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuddlebros/pseuds/unnohrian
Summary: The Nohrian princess and her wife had talked it out already, multiple times—they saw no need to hold back any more, and eagerly invite you to join their relationship.And when you seem to have doubts, they give you a sneak taste of what you could have, if only you agreed to be theirs.





	a thorn between two roses

**Author's Note:**

> Elise is, obviously, aged-up a lot in this fic. I'd say she's at least twenty, probably older, which should explain her confidence and comfortableness in herself, the fact that she's been married to Effie for a while, and the open-mindedness she has about adding a third person into their relationship. 
> 
> Reader is a dancer, because I had to find a way to get her into their life, but as always, body types and looks are left intentionally neutral.

Effie tries not to be jealous, she really does. She has spent years admiring her charge, years at the side of a princess who is so often the subject of looks both envious and admiring. She’s used to lords and ladies trying to smarm their way into Elise’s good graces, and is just as used to her turning them down in her sweet, polite way—because she’s already taken. Effie tries not to be jealous, because she loves her wife, and trusts her completely.

But Camilla had recently found Elise a new dance teacher, and Effie was finding it hard to be happy about it. Her wife would return from dance lessons beaming, chatting away happily about her wonderful teacher—how beautiful she was, how much she was enjoying learning the new steps with the graceful guidance of a woman whose whole life had been dedicated to mastering that elegance that Elise so wished she carried. After multiple nights of you being the topic of pillow talk, Effie decides she has to see you for herself.

* * *

Effie watches as you sweep her wife off her feet; your graceful steps and kind smile guiding the two of you around the room light and bright as air. Elise is beaming and giggling with a sparkle in her eyes, and Effie feels the princesses joy in her heart. When the two of you come to a stop, she finds herself almost asking to watch one more dance.

“Well, milady, your footwork is improving with leaps and bounds; you’ll be perfect in no time!”

Your praise makes Elise blush. “I’m still not as graceful as you, though…”

“I’ve been doing this a lot longer than you, milady. Making it look easy is the work of years of practice: to look as comfortable as you do while remembering your steps is no mean feat!”

“And I thought you looked magnificent, my love,” Effie assures her, calling from her perch on a bench.

“You’re my wife! You have to say that!” Elise giggles, but she’s smiling fondly in Effie’s direction anyway, and walking towards her for a hug. When she’s safe in the arms she knows so well, she whispers, “Isn’t she all I told you?”

Effie takes another look at you, and nods.

“Believe me, my lady, you’re doing so well you won’t need me for much longer.”

“Don’t worry, [Y/N], you’ll be around a long time yet!”

You don’t catch whatever is hidden behind the words, instead smiling at the two of them, saying your goodbyes completely unaware of the plotting couple you leave in your wake.

* * *

It’s a surprise, though not an unwelcome one, when you’re invited to Lady Elise’s private quarters to show her some of your costumes. They didn’t often get worn recently, with you taking to teaching rather than performing, but they held fond memories of performances long past and the rush of the stage. Getting the chance to talk about them was a gift, really.

“Lady Elise? It’s [Y/N]!”

“Oh, come in! The door’s unlocked!”

You let yourself in, and find yourself gaping at your surroundings. It’s way larger than your room, a truly royal suite; opulent but not gaudy. Flowers and vines grow in baskets near the walls, clearly blooming under someone's green thumb. It’s almost overwhelming to be somewhere so… loved. A place that’s clearly blossoming under the love of the couple that live here.

“Hey! Thanks for coming—are those your costumes?! Oh, please can you put them on, pretty please?”

“Elise…”

“Oh, come on Effie—like you don’t want to see her wearing them!”

“I… sure, I could put them on. Do you mind if I head behind the screen?"

"Go ahead! We won't peek, promise."

Your dancers clothes were complicated, but you loved to wear them. It had been a moment of calm in pre-show preparations, each of your group helping buckle belts or clasp jewelry for each other. As chiffon and silk slide over your skin, you smile. This costume had seen you through countless nights, and though the memories were wonderful, you still feel a little exposed wearing it here—even more so when you come out from behind the screen to show your waiting audience.

“I… these were less embarrassing to wear when I wasn’t alone,” you say, head bowed a little.

 _“Embarrassing_? You look amazing! Doesn’t she, Effie?”

“Truly,” Effie whispers, and you blush from the wistfulness in it.

Elise bounds over to you, circling you eagerly. She doesn’t stop herself from touching you; her fingers trail over where the exposed skin of your sides meets the hem of your dancing trousers, making the golden baubles that hang from your belt dance and jingle under her touch. Your breath hitches as her hands explore you, from the golden choker to all the other pieces of jewellry that hang from your body, and you hold it as long as you can.

“Effie… I think it’s time, don’t you?”

Effie, who had so far been quiet and distant, joins the two of you. Her eyes, unlike Elise’s, are fiery—if she was frowning, you think you’d be running for the hills. But her expression is carefully blank, and you aren’t quite sure what to expect when she comes to a halt in front of you.

“It’s hard to resist when she looks like this,” Effie admits. Her eyes scanning from head to toe, taking in everywhere the silk and chiffon clings to you, and everywhere it leaves your body an illusion—you might as well be naked, the way she looks at you. You understand, now, the fire in her eyes; it was hunger.

“Ever since my darling found out I was dancing with another woman, she’s been torn, but we talked about her fears, her concerns, and our wants, and after she watched us together the other day we decided… we want you.”

“Want… me? My lady…”

Elise’s wandering hands still to pull you into her embrace, the front of her body warm and soft against your back, at the same time her wife takes your face in her hands. You wouldn’t have thought Effie capable of being so gentle, but she holds you like you’re fragile, a tiny bird ready to fly away—it’s endearing.

“We’ve been married for a while, and we’re happy with each other—more than happy. Elise is my dream come true,” Effie admits, a blush colouring her face. “And we trust each other with everything. Including our desires. We wish to invite you to our bed, [Y/N].”

“Your… bed? I… my ladies, I couldn’t…”

Effie tilts her head, and when she speaks, it’s not accusatory, or offended, but curious. “Because you don’t want to? If you are uninterested...”

“ _No_! No, of course—I would be a fool to be uninterested, you two are beautiful, wonderful women, it would be an honour, but—but I am not worthy.”

One of Effie’s hands tails down, down, down, until she can cup your cunt, can feel the wetness against the material. “You would like to, though, wouldn’t you?”

“Give us one night, [Y/N]. We’ll make sure you feel worthy.” Elise presses a kiss to your back, and you think, perhaps, you could fall into these two, if you let yourself.

“Okay,” you acquiesce.

“Oh thank goodness! Effie, take her to the bed, would you? I just need to grab something.”

Effie presses a quick kiss to your mouth, and you’re still reeling from it when she sweeps you into a bridal hold like you weigh nothing, not seeming bothered even when you instinctively try to worm your way out of her hold. You can feel the strength in her hold, feel all of her muscles as they flex around you. You don’t think you’ve ever felt so secure.

She sets you on the side of their bed, so that you can make your own way further into the middle of the sheets. When Elise returns, she comes to straddle you. “Do you trust me, [Y/N]?” she asks. Your eyes catch hers, caught by the earnestness in them. Of course you trust her, you think. You’d admired her your entire life, been glad to be part of her life since you met her. There’s nothing you wouldn’t entrust to her. Including yourself.

“Of course, milady.”

“Then, first things first, you’re going to have to stop calling me ‘milady’—here, we’re all equals.” Effie’s fingers come to meet hers, and they share a loving glance; it’s so sweet that you can’t bring yourself to be jealous. “As equal as can be. No princesses here.”

“Uh, okay then… Elise.”

She beams at you, and your heart thumps.

“Great! Well then, close your eyes, cutie. We’re going to look after you, okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper, and do as you’re told.

Your first sensation is that of something soft around your eyes, and being tied firmly but gently behind your head. If you had to guess, you would say it was silky; perhaps one of Elise’s ribbons? Whatever it is, it itches a little where it rests on your nose. Elise giggles from somewhere further in the room when your nose wriggles.

Then, it’s hands. Effie’s hands, you assume, because they’re strong, calloused and guiding, pushing gently at your stomach until you’re lying back. Those same hands stay on your stomach, slipping under the material covering your torso, gently ruching it until it’s almost over your breast coverings.

Effie reassures you before pushing it any further. “If something is too much, or you’re uncomfortable, you can tell us, okay?” When you nod, she continues, slowly helping your shirt up until it’s over your breasts, and gently helping it over your head.

“She’s gorgeous, isn’t she, Effie?”

Effie doesn’t answer, at least not verbally, but you feel closed-mouth kisses against your stomach, peppering up from your bellybutton, tickling the thinner skin over your sternum. A hand takes one of your tits in hand, massaging it gently over your coverings. You feel your skin give under the touch, soft and malleable in their hold.

A different hand comes to stroke your face, tracing the curve of your cheek and jaw like you were a statue they couldn’t believe they were allowed to touch. A couple of fingers rest on your lips, only to be replaced by a perfect, deliciously soft pair of lips. They push against you insistently, but it feels like desire as opposed to a rush to go further. It’s like… it’s like they can’t believe you’re finally here, and they’re trying to reassure themselves you’re not going anywhere.

“C’mon, baby, share,” Effie whines. Elise, then, must have been the one at your lips.

With a hmph, she pulls away, but only for Effie’s lips to take their place. She smells different to Elise, you realise; musky and sweaty and a little like the oil she uses to vanish her armour, where Elise has always smelled of a gentle spritz of perfume, like petals of a flower just bloomed. You don’t think you could ever get sick of either of those scents.

Elises lips haven’t gone far, though; you feel them on your collar first, then your hip, then blazing a trail of kisses down the length of your leg.

“She’s cute, Effie… do you think we could keep her like this forever?”

Effie’s lips part from yours only a little—you feel her breath on your skin as she speaks. “We could, but Camilla would kill us if you weren’t practicing your dance.”

Effie giggles. “She would! But imagine, every evening, coming home and having this goddess in our bed, getting to touch her, tease her, play with her?” You suck in a harsh breath—it’s overwhelming, being showered with all this praise and this kindness by women so beautiful in soul and self. To think that they thought the same of you…

“Mmh, we’d exhaust her.” A hand reaches under the cup of your brassiere, seeking to give your nipple the same attention the rest of you had been receiving. First one, then the other, is teased to hardness, fingers playing them so well that you keen into the contact. “But I don’t think she’d mind.”

You’ve a mind to agree with her.

Soft, dainty fingers make their way between your thighs, not prying them open, but waiting for you to open them a little yourself. And when you do, those delicate fingers take their time trailing through the slick wetness of your arousal, only ever going as far as your outer lips. They feel like they’re trying to get to know you completely, trying to map every part of you, and it takes everything in you to stop yourself from bucking into the touch.

“Effie, she’s so wet down here, feel—and soft, too. I think she’s enjoying it.”

Elise’s fingers between your legs are met with her wifes, the two of them stroking the sensitive skin of your outer lips, still not delving any further. They were coiling you further and further, intimate touches and sounds heightening your experience even though they still haven’t taken you.

“Open your mouth, [Y/N]. Effie, get your fingers ready, okay?” You do as you’re told, and have your mouth quickly filled by two fingers. You’re not really sure what to do, but you roll your tongue experimentally around them, sucking them into your mouth. They’re a little salty, but you don’t really mind, not when they’re steadily getting coated in your saliva anyway. By the time her fingers leave your mouth, you’re pretty sure your mouth and chin are covered in drool. “Ooh, I can’t wait to watch this…”

Effie’s fingers join her wife’s once more, but venture a little further. They massage your clit, rubbing circles that make you rock into the sensation. And then they slip down, teasingly probing at your hole until you’re whimpering for more.

“The blindfold makes it so much  _better_ , doesn’t it?”

“Goddess, yes,” you moan.

“First time I wore one,” Effie says, still teasing you with the tips of her fingers, “I came just from Elise’s mouth on my tits—and _wow_ , it was _so_ much more intense than anything I’d ever done before.”

Elise seems to take this as a suggestion. Her breath, hot on your nipples, soon makes way for the warmth of her mouth as she takes one into her mouth, massaging it with her tongue as the other is massaged between her fingers. It forces jolts of pleasure straight through you, and your already bucking hips bear down even harder on Effie’s fingers.

“A- _ah_ , Elise!”

“She’s been admiring those for a while… I fear we won’t be able to tear her away from them, though I don’t blame her.” Effie’s fingers don’t let up, playing you harder, letting more and more of her fingers fill you up each time she pumps them into you. “A body this beautiful… thank you for sharing with us.”

You’d love to respond to her compliments, but the feeling of her stretching you, while Elise is sucking on your tits like it’s going out of fashion, both of them still letting their free hands roam wherever they wish—and the fact that you can’t see them, that you’re having to rely on the feelings and sounds around you—you’re getting to the edge of your ability to hold back. Your moans fly freely from you, and your hands search out something, _anything_ to ground you.

“She’s so wanton, Elise, are you seeing this?” The princesses mouth leaves your breast, but you hear her hum appreciatively.

“You’re so good for us, [Y/N]! Effie’s fingers are soaked! But I think we can make you cum, hm? Neither of us have tasted you, yet… and you look delicious.”

Elise—it must be Elise, after that comment—brings her tongue to your clit, giving it kitten licks that make you jump with pleasure. Effie doesn’t let up, either, and soon you’re done for, coming apart with a shout as Elise sucks on your clit and Effie probes a part of you that sends you to the height of pleasure. The fingers inside you don’t let up, even as your walls clench and tighten around them—Effie’s strong fingers easily fight through.

Elise, though, lets your clit go as soon as you start cumming, swallowing your ongoing moans and cries with a deep, involved kiss. Her tongue tastes of you, though you never knew you could taste so good; you wonder just what they’d done to you.

Effie, eventually, takes mercy on your sensitive core, pulling her fingers out only for you to hear her sucking your cum off of them. The sound causes your hips give one last twitch—one last erotic hooray.

“You with us, honey?” she asks. She maneuvers your limp body so that you’re sitting between her outstretched legs, and unties the ribbon from around your head. You’re thankful that you thought to scrunch your eyes shut—the sudden light of the room hurts, even behind your eyelids, and you know it’s only candlelight. “You did so well, love.”

“Thank you for trusting us,” Elise adds, taking your cheek in one of her hands so that she can press a kiss to your lips. “Did you like it?”

You laugh—of course you do, they just made you fall apart under them, and now they’re asking if you enjoyed it! “I loved it, you two—you two are magical.”

“You wouldn’t be saying that if you’d seen yourself, cutie! When you came—wow! You were… just spectacular!”

“Y-you’re exaggerating…”

“She isn’t,” Effie’s voice comes low, near your ear. “I know that we’d both love to see that sight again… over and over again…”

“But right now… what do you think? About joining us again? And perhaps going on a few dates? We know the most darling restaurant, not far from the castle—I’m sure you’d love an evening where you got to relax your feet, hm?”

“It sounds lovely, but… shouldn’t I return the favour? Repay you?”

“Not tonight, [Y/N]. Tonight is about _you_ —”

“—and we’re not quite done yet.”

* * *

 Beside you, your princess and her retainer doze in peace. Elise had taken hold of one of your arms, cuddling it close as she slept, while Effie had flung herself halfway across your torso. But you can’t sleep, instead staring at the high ceiling of their quarters as worries swirl around, a vortex in your head.

“Am I to be a mistress?” you wonder out loud, quiet enough that the air of the room doesn’t seem to shift from it. “Or a dirty secret, some kind of hidden whore? I’m not even sure which would be worse.”

“You shall be whatever you wish to be,” Elise says, not even opening her eyes. “And I shall continue to be a light sleeper, who wishes her and her wifes new partner would also go to sleep.”

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to wake you, I—”

“You’re fine, cutie, as long as you go to sleep, and let us prove to you that our love is true. In the morning. When we’re all awake.”

“I… of course, Elise. Good night.”

“Good night, [Y/N].”

**Author's Note:**

> I shared a lot of nicknames that Elise gives the reader here with ones Camilla does in my other fics, because I think Elise probably learned a lot of her way around relationships from her older sister, by watching her and how she was. I'm not generally one to write aged-up fics, but you can't really have Effie without Elise! The idea was to have Effie show off her strength on the reader, but that didn't make it in this time—but the idea is so appealing I'll probably write one like that soon.
> 
> This isn't the best thing I've written, but hopefully the next few fics coming up will make up for it!
> 
> As always, you can find me at cuddlebros.tumblr.com, where I take suggestions, criticism (constructive, though!), and you can tell me if there are any mistakes or anything you see! (And I have a link to my ko-fi there now, too!)


End file.
